


Heat

by wildlyfuriousdragon



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Unrepentant Fluff, brief mention of the Crystal Gems, poetic smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-23
Updated: 2016-06-23
Packaged: 2018-07-16 18:03:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7278289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildlyfuriousdragon/pseuds/wildlyfuriousdragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's heat in way Nursey can't understand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heat

**Author's Note:**

> I actually wrote this awhile ago, but I'm posting it now to help those who are suffering from 'Refreshing the OMGCP page every two seconds because holy shit it's update day.'
> 
> hope you like it ya'll.

It’s heat in a way that Nursey can’t understand. Pleasure licks up his spine so intense that it draws an unexpected growl from the back of his throat. He can feel Dex grin in the juncture between his shoulder and collarbone; can feel the dull pain of teeth sinking into his neck then his jaw. 

Nursey forgot that sex could turn into something like exploration. This lovemaking was almost academic the way Dex seemed to study the stutter of hips and sighs, the way he tested the effects of skin on skin, mouth on cock (and if Nursey was a subject, Dex deserved his damn PhD).

 Nursey knew ‘fucking’. He understand the rabid, desperate grab for release that took seconds but this? Everything he knows about sex seems elementary compared to this.  

They were just sitting on the couch before; innocently watching Steven Universe when ‘The Answer’ came on. Nursey felt strangely emotional, to the point where tears pricked his vision and he had to take a few shuddering breaths to calm himself. 

He didn’t understand why it affected him so; it’s the classic ‘opposites attract’ trope but he can’t help thinking about himself and Dex. Hot and Cold; Black and White; just, balance in a shit-fuck of a world. 

It starts as a chaste kiss. One gently pressed to a pale temple; a silent ‘mine’ mouthed behind it but Dex catches his mouth before Nursey can even turn his head back to television. They’re light kisses at first; a fleeting press of lips over and over again even as the next episode begins to play.

There’s a shift at one point and Dex eases his boyfriend on his back and straddles him; placing a gentle hand on the omnipresent stubble on Nursey’s cheek. He places his other hand on Nursey’s hip, rubbing lazy circles on the taunt skin; occasionally slipping down past the hem of his boxers. It’s not a demand. It’s not begging. It’s a familiar patience. It’s an offer to let Nursey set the pace. 

The kiss deepens and eyes close. Everything else gets a little fuzzy, a little more irrelevant. Nursey’s content and warm; his chill effectively melted because he’s got nothing to prove here. Dex has him wrapped up and pinned down and the pressure on his chest isn’t nervousness, or fear, an obligation to be calm, the jarring reminder that he’s the minority, that his major is worthless or that he’ll never be remembered.

It’s heat in a way that Nursey now understands perfectly. It’s attention and arousal that makes his head spin. It’s the careful way Dex asks if he’s okay, the tender way he undresses Nursey and then himself. It’s the painfully slow drag of fingers on his ass, the pressure of being filled and teased.  It’s the callous hand around his cock, the practiced stroke that only Dex would know. It’s coming first and not being embarrassed; sex without competition or approval. 

There’s no shame afterword. No hurried rush to find discarded clothing, no explanations why this can’t happen again. Dex lays his head on Nursey’s and they talk because that’s what they do. ( ‘ _Did you finish that one matrix you showed me earlier’_ ,  _‘No, got an extension’_ ,  _‘Do you want to try that new cafe that opened across campus?’, ‘Not if it’s some weird hipster shit Nurse’_ ). They get into a half-heated argument about what constitutes as ‘hipster food’ while Nursey runs his hands through auburn hair; writing sonnets in his mind about heat and fire and muscle and bone.

They should move, get cleaned up but for now they rest; the pattern of their breaths disjointed and cacophonous. The television still plays in the background but is muted by the post-coital mellow. 

Nursey can’t help wondering if this is happiness. If the answer to his worries acknowledged and otherwise is this; sated and sleepy, a flawed, freckled man as a blanket and his heart overflowing.  

Maybe. 


End file.
